Rachel Berry is Chivalrous
by slackerD
Summary: Puck says some disparaging things against Quinn. Rachel does not approve.


**Title:** Rachel Berry is Chivalrous  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Rachel/Quinn, Puck, Mike, Santana, Finn  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Puck says some disparaging things against Quinn. Rachel does not approve.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~2,000  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Season 1

Quinn and Rachel have been dating for about three month when Puck demands they attend the party he's having Friday night. They're trying to have a nice quiet lunch in the auditorium, both of them sitting on the edge of the stage, their legs swinging when Puck storms in, breaking the peace.

Quinn shoots him a dirty look, but Rachel just waves and gives a small smile. This is apparently enough for Puck to take as an invitation to sit next to them.

"It's going to be fucking sweet," he tells them. "Puckzilla knows how to throw a party, yo."

"Thank you, Noah," Rachel says. "We'll take it under consideration."

"No way. I'm not taking no for an answer," Puck says. "My baby mama and my fellow hot Jew need to be there."

"Fine. We'll go, Puck," Quinn says. "Can you please leave us alone now?"

"Gonna go do it somewhere?" Puck asks, smirking.

"Hardly," Rachel huffs. "Just because some of you chose to act in such a juvenile manner instead of attending to your education, doesn't mean Quinn and I embrace that philosophy."

"Besides, even if we did," Quinn adds. "_You_wouldn't be allowed to watch."

"Too bad," Puck replies. "You two, here at school? That would be totally hot. Even hotter than Santana and Britt when I caught them going at it in the library."

"Oh god," Quinn groans.

"Please tell me they weren't on any of the tables," Rachel says.

"Naw. That's too conventional for those two," Puck tells her. They were doing it on the encyclopedia shelves."

"Ewwwww."

"I really wish I hadn't used those last week for my report on the Cuban Missile Crisis," Rachel says.

**…**

Friday night, both Quinn and Rachel reluctantly head over to Puck's. Rachel is still paranoid that she's being set up for something humiliating. She knows Quinn wouldn't allow that, but it's always a worry in the back of her mind. Quinn on the other hand is worried her popularity isn't enough anymore to protect her or Rachel as a couple. Her classmates do a lot of stupid things _sober_; she knows from experience that most of them are even bigger jackasses drunk.

"We're just making an appearance, having a drink or two and then bailing," Quinn says as Rachel parks her car. Rachel nods.

They walk a block to Puck's house because Rachel refuses to park like their classmates. Rachel's car is carefully parallel parked, exactly six inches away from the curb. If Quinn hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn't' have believe Rachel could pull it off so effortlessly. She wonders how long it took her girlfriend to perfect that.

By the time they arrive, the party is full of loud, obnoxious drunk people that neither of them want to deal with.

Almost immediately Quinn is dragged away by Santana who only tolerates Rachel because HBIC Quinn demanded it. However, on a Friday night, Santana isn't in the mood to deal with someone she refers to as "Loony Bin", so Rachel is used to being left behind as Quinn is dragged off.

Thankfully, Puck finds her a few moments later and hands her a beer.

"Noah Puckerman," Rachel says. "What on earth would make you think I would want such a thing?"

"It's a party, Rach," Puck tells her. "You gotta loosen up a bit."

Rachel glares at him.

"Whatever. You don't have to drink it, but will you least carry it around so people don't think you're a complete buzz kill?"

"Fine," Rachel replies. "But on Monday we will be discussing your calling me a buzz kill."

"I think you just gave a prime example why he called you that," Mike says coming up behind Rachel.

"I suppose so," Rachel agrees, leaning against the counter as Mike searches for alcohol. "But he didn't have to say it, did he?"

"It's Puck," Mike argues as he mixes himself a Screwdriver.

"You're saying my standards are too high?"

"Basically."

"I suppose that's possible."

"How about a drink?" Mike asks. "I'm not a bad bartender."

"I'm the sober driver," Rachel informs him. "It would be irresponsible of me to indulge."

"What about one, really weak one?" Mike continues. "I promise it'll have very little alcohol, but still taste good."

Rachel sighs. "Fine. But all credit goes to _you_, not Puck."

Mike smiles. "Deal."

He quickly mixes her a rum and diet, carefully to keep the amount of rum to a minimum. After giving it a quick stir, he hands it to Rachel. She sips it.

"I don't taste anything but the diet," she tells him.

"Perfect," Mike says. "That means it's pretty weak then. You should be good to go."

"Thanks Mike."

"Wanna dance?"

"I'm fine for now, but I will follow you to the dance floor."

**…**

An hour later, Rachel doesn't mind being at the party as much as she thought she would. It's then she realizes the alcohol is having an effect. She has a flash of concern because she's supposed to stay sober and drive home, but then relaxes because as long as they don't leave immediately, she should be fine.

She finally gives in to Mike and Brittany's coaxing and joins them on the dance floor, giggling as they make a Rachel Berry sandwich.

Three or four songs later, she hears the distinct sound of a very, _very_pissed off Quinn. Looking around no one else seems to notice, so she tries to relax about it. Everyone says she needs to relax a little.

But she can't let it go, so she excuses herself and goes to find her girlfriend.

Rachel finds her in the kitchen being held back by Finn. Santana is next to them laughing at the blonde's antics as Puck stand as far away from Quinn as possible.

"What's going on?" Rachel asks.

"I'm going to kill you Puckerman," Quinn says. "You better hope your boy here doesn't let go anytime soon or your little friend will be feeling a lot of pain."

Rachel sighs. Puck somehow always manages to say something stupid and set Quinn off. Rachel can't believe he _still_hasn't learned, especially after last time when it took Finn, Mike and Matt to stop Quinn from slashing Puck's tires.

Knowing she's the only one who can really help, Rachel stands in front of Quinn and tries to get her attention.

"Quinn. Quinn, baby," Rachel says. "Look at me. Please, just relax for a moment and look at me."

Quinn stops struggling for a moment and looks at Rachel.

"I know you're upset, but violence is rarely the answer."

"He's a fucking bastard who deserves it," Quinn snaps.

Rachel sighs again. "Fine. I agree with you most of the time. So I'll make you a deal. You tell me what he said and _I'll_ handle it." She ignores the snort of disbelief; it's most likely from Santana. "But you have to relax and when Finn lets go of you, you _cannot_attack Noah. Okay?"

"But Rach, he-"

"I said I would take care of it, Quinn," Rachel tells her. "Do you trust me to do that?"

Quinn seems to consider this for a moment before she nods.

"Okay. Finn, you can let her go," Rachel says.

"What? No way, Rach," Finn replies. "She's just going to go after him anyway."

"I trust her, okay, Finn. Now please let her go."

Reluctantly, Finn does so. He doesn't relax though, ready to spring after Quinn if she goes after Puck. Everyone waits with baited breath, but Quinn simply pulls Rachel into a tight hug.

Everyone lets out a sigh of relief.

Quinn then whispers to Rachel why she's pissed at Puck. Disbelieving, Rachel asks Quinn to repeat herself. Quinn does and Rachel goes very still. She pulls Quinn in for a quick, but passionate kiss before stalking over to Puck.

"Outside, Puckerman. Now!"

"What?"

"You heard me," Rachel says. "You finally crossed the line and so you and I are going to step outside and I'm going to break your spine."

Puck scoffs. "All right, Rachel. I'll go outside with you."

Puck leads Rachel into the backyard. Quinn, Santana and Finn follow, as well as a few others.

"Okay, so we're outside," Puck says. "Now what?"

Rachel steps as close to Puck as possible, reaches up and grabs his ear. She then yanks him down, by his ear, to her level. "I have to ask, because it's only fair. Did you insinuate that Quinn's vagina is completely ruined because she gave birth to your demon spawn? And then did you still proposition her for sex, telling her you want to experience the before and after?" After asking all this, Rachel lets go of Puck's ear and he stands up straight.

Puck shrugs. "I might have. I've been drinking. I say stupid shit."

"Apologize this instant."

"No way. Q's way too uptight, especially for someone that's had three beers. This is a party, for fuck's sake."

"Fine. You leave me no choice."

"What? _You're_ going to break _my_spine?"

Rachel doesn't speak. She simply walks up to Puck and reaches around his back, tracing his spine with her fingers.

"What? That's how you're going to break my spine?" Puck laughs. "You couldn't break a spine if you had a baseball bat. I bet you don't even-oh my fucking god! My spine!"

Puck falls to the ground in agony, gasping.

Because there aren't any lights in the backyard, no one's quite sure what happened. All they could see was Rachel running her hands over Puck's back before he fell to the ground and began to weep like a little girl.

No one approaches though. A wave of fear has fallen over the backyard. It is also deadly silent.

Rachel crouches down next to Puck's head. He tries to cover it, protect it, but any sort of movement is torture.

"Now," Rachel whispers. "I'm going to bring Quinn over here and you're going to apologize. _And_, you're going to mean it. Or else I'll be forced to _really_hurt you."

Puck's nod is barely perceivable, but it's enough for Rachel. She stands and walks back over to Quinn; everyone else takes several steps back, wanting to stay out of her way. Rachel takes Quinn's hand and leads her back to where Puck is writhing on the ground. They both crouch.

"I'm… sorry, Q… really," Puck gasps.

"And you're not going to say _any_thing like that again, are you?" Rachel prods.

"Never. I swear."

"Good. Quinn, are you satisfied?" Rachel asks.

Quinn looks at Puck, writhing on the ground. "I am."

"Excellent."

They both stand.

"Well, we should be going," Rachel says. "It's been lovely, but I'm fairly certain, damaging the host is a faux pas."

Turning to leave, Rachel takes a menacing step towards Santana, who actually flinches and then growls to herself at her reaction.

Rachel smirks at this, but surprisingly, stays quiet. She nods good-bye to Mike and Finn as Rachel and Quinn exit the backyard.

Shockingly, everyone gets out of their way, the entire journey to Rachel's car. It's slightly baffling because neither girl realized gossip could travel _that_fast. The stroll to Rachel's car is almost pleasant, though because of it. Used to having people talk behind her back, Rachel just shrugs and walks to the passenger side of her car.

"My lady," Rachel says, opening Quinn's door for her.

"You're so chivalrous," Quinn says, climbing into the passenger seat.

"I do try."

"You're okay to drive, right, baby?" Quinn asks.

Rachel nods. "I only indulged in one _very_weak drink and my very recent activities sobered me up quite quickly."

"Good," Quinn replies. "Because when we get back to your place, I'd like to show you how grateful I am for you defending my honor."

Rachel grins. "Anything for you, Quinn. You know that."

"Excellent," Quinn grins. "That means you'll let me have my way with you."

Rachel's grin widens. "Anything for you, Quinn. You know that." And the car speeds off.


End file.
